Whoever decided this was Holiday “Break” needs to reevaluate what a break really is.
It used to be so nice. The sun used to shine brighter. The birds chirped at an appropriate level. Nobody was home to interrupt your Sex & The City rerun binges, but now the world has gone to shit — the kids are coming home for the holidays.
We thought we got rid of them with school (sorry, teachers) but now they’ve had their holiday parties and the bus is going to be at your driveway in exactly six minutes. This is the last chance you have to listen to something other than Kidz Bop so queue up some Rihanna and get that emergency bottle of Pinot.
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Shopping with monsters.
Walmart. All you needed to do was go to Walmart. You wrote the list, you made a map to avoid wandering around the store, the plan was #Flawless. But of course the kids are too young to be home by themselves so new variables are in the mix of this operation—variables not even James Bond could handle after a few shaken martinis. “No, you can’t go to the toy section. No, you don’t need a ten-pound bag of Skittles. Did I say you could put that Fanta in the cart??” Go to the wine aisle and stock up. You’re going to need it.
Those who see snow and think it’s pretty and fun have never had a grimy child. The minute kids see snow, of course they have to pack it into balls and throw it at each other. Then their clothes get damp and they catch colds because, yes, germs. You know what’s easier and a lot more pleasing than getting a squirming eight-year old into a snow suit? Uncorking a bottle of Cabernet and sitting by the fire listening to smooth jazz. Fly us to the moon, Frank.
Suzie and I are going to have a sleepover.
This is the greatest thing to happen since Blake and Gwen rumors started becoming true. Of course your daughter can go terrorize Suzie’s house. They can gossip all night long while you open this Bordeaux and bask in the happiness of not having to host this time. Give a bottle of wine to Suzie’s mother, Janice. She’s going to need it.
Video games for days.
Seriously Timmy, it’s been five hours. He needs to be turning off the game this instant because it’s time for you clear up your DVR and catch up with the Kardashians. So Timmy better turn that damn game off and go grab your Chardonnay from the fridge before you use his Mario disc as a Frisbee.
I need to get ____ a gift for tomorrow!
We don’t care who this person at the gift exchange is. The fact is your child waited until THE DAY BEFORE to get their buddy a present when they knew this was coming up weeks ago. You should just go get your exchange partner’s parents a bottle of wine instead because we can’t imagine the crap they have to deal with too.
Can we have pizza for dinner?
Oh, don’t mind us just slaving away over this hot stove all day making a beautiful Beef Wellington like we’re freaking Gordon Ramsay over here. Of course, you can just throw it all away and order pizza like a bunch of college students crying in the library over finals. Let’s just go grab a jug of Chianti with the tacky gingham straw basket while we’re at it to round out the atmosphere.
Do you wanna build a snowman??
Does it really look like we want to go build a snowman? No, Sally we don’t want to build a snowman unless it’s got twelve bottles of Rose sticking out of it. This isn’t Frozen and we will not by any means let it go. You and your brother go to your rooms and read while Janice and I check to see if this wine has turned into vinegar yet.
Look at yourself in the mirror. We know that you and your mother-in-law don’t always see eye to eye and that she totally said the turkey was bone-dry at Thanksgiving this year…but she has offered a gift from heaven. She wants the kids for the weekend. Of course, she’s going to spoil them and give them candy that drives them up the wall, but think about all of the drinking you and the hubby have to catch up on. Remember your friends? You know, those people you used to hang out with on the weekends before Thing 1 and Thing 2 came along? Give them a call and tell them to bring the Champagne. It’s your weekend baby and it’s going to be explosive.
If there is one thing children should never say, it’s this phrase right here. This phrase is an invitation for chores and shouting. So they’re bored, eh? Don’t worry, we know just the game to keep them busy. Let’s play a game called “restaurant” where the kids are the waiters, and you are the customer. “Oh waiter, where is my Sauvignon Blanc?” Don’t forget the appetizers.
Last day of break.
How you made it this far is a mystery. You may have noticed your recycling bin was a bit…heavier…these past few weeks, but you made it. Bravo. Now, all that’s left is 24 hours between you and adult freedom. No more screaming and fighting. Now, you can go back to midday book (wine) club and sitting on the couch with some sports team fundraiser bon-bons. Head down into the cellar and find that tantalizing Zinfandel you’ve been saving for a special day because that day is here and it’s going to be glorious.